A Song Beyond the Sea
by imissmaeberry
Summary: Haruhi has always considered herself to be…practical. Reasonable. Open-minded with a healthy dose of skepticism. Especially when it came to the sailors' tales of the open ocean and they creatures that they faced. Mermaids, she thinks. Honestly. She sits on the coastline, the only sounds she hears being those of the waves meeting the shore, children's laughter on the boardwalk
1. Chapter 1

_Deep within the ocean, far beyond human reach,_

 _Beyond the coral gardens and the kelp forests_

 _Shrouded in mystery and doubt and legend_

 _Lies a well-guarded secret_

 _Many have given their lives to protect_

"You know, I think I saw a merman while I was out on the barge today, fellas!" A man with weathered skin and a beard as gray as the stormy sea nods slowly, remembering every possible detail of the encounter.

 ** _A flash of fin, a big splash, a shimmering in the water moving swiftly farther away, and for a moment, just a moment, the face of a beautiful young man_**

There is a chorus of groans and rolling eyes, hands waving the story off. Mutters of "What a crazy old man," and "The older ones in this town, man, I tell ya," can be heard throughout.

But the older generation of this town, they know. They know the secret past that connects their town to the sea, they remember being children when the sea water ran red.

To the younger ones, these stories are simply legends and fairy tales.


	2. Chapter 2

Haruhi runs her fingers through her hair, staring wistfully into the mirror. It only reaches the nape of her neck now, far shorter than the long locks she was used to. Sighing, she thinks of her mother for a moment. She can hear her father's voice telling her, "Haruhi, you look so much like your mother."

Haruhi shakes her head, feels the lack of hair no longer brushing along her back and shoulders and somehow, she begins to feel _free._

It's only mid-morning but the summer sun already feels boiling as she leaves her house, en route to the shady spot under the old pier to do her schoolwork. Her father is already working at what is colloquially known as "The Shop", a bait shop with a tavern in the back.

Despite living on a small secluded island, where the weather was truly idyllic more often than not, Haruhi has known since she was small that she had no plans of staying here – too many tourists, the old people constantly insisting in the truth of local legends and tales, and she'd found herself immune to the charms of the water. She only chose to study there because it was cooler than the rest of the island.

Haruhi is, unsurprisingly, the only student in her class who's chosen to continue her studies throughout their summer break. While her classmates spend their summer swimming and working for their local tourist traps, Haruhi works on literature revision and studying the laws and court cases from the main land.

Her days pass like this on end, each one just like the one before; she wakes up early, avoids waking her father, makes breakfast for them both, packs a lunch and makes her way down to her special spot, where she spends the daylight hours cramming every possible bit of knowledge into her memory, goes home and makes dinner, sleeps, repeats.

Many summers have passed in the same manner, and she likes it that way, thank you very much.

She digs her toes deeper into the sand, pen stuck thoughtfully between her teeth as she reads over her current text of choice: _Crime and Punishment_.

The wind has picked up, ever so slightly, but the breeze is welcome in this incredible heat, and Haruhi sighs gratefully when she feels it flow over her skin. She hums a tune absentmindedly, a song her mother used to sing, no other sound aside from the crashing waves and the breeze in the trees.

Until she hears the screaming.

Haruhi jumps at the sound, wondering at first if she's hearing things or if it's some of the local kids – until she hears it again, longer this time, full of agony. She stands, her books and pens falling from her lap as she runs toward the noise, mind laced with fear – what if someone's being tortured, or even worse – she cuts her thoughts off, focused on finding the source of the noise.

What she finds, just on the other side of the group of rocks she usually hides behind, is not at all what she was expecting.

No, a naked, screaming boy writhing on his back in the sand but appearing otherwise unharmed, was not at _all_ what she thought she was going to find.

"Um, excuse me?" She calls out, not wanting to frighten the boy, putting her hands up in the air to show she wasn't hiding any sort of weapons.

"Oh thank _goodness_!" the boy calls out, rolling onto his stomach and reaching his arms out. "Can you help me stand up?"

"A-ah, sure thing. Wait! One second." Haruhi quickly runs back to where her supplies still sit and grabs the towel she'd been sitting on not moments before so that she could give it to the boy – she hadn't seen any clothes nearby. Running back over to him, she hands him to towel and he takes it but looks up at her, confused.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He asks, face scrunched as he examines it.

Haruhi raises a brow. "You can…wrap it around yourself? So you don't, you know, expose yourself?"

The boy – whose hair is shining brilliantly in the sunlight, Haruhi pretends _not_ to note – mulls this over for a moment. "Expose…expose myself…" he mutters, and Haruhi can almost see the gears grinding in his head. "Oh!" He cries, "You mean my penis."

"Ah. Er…yes. That's what I'm talking about. So if you would…" She trails off as he takes the towel from her hands – finally – and turns her head as he manages to wrap himself up.

"You can look!" He calls. Haruhi turns back and holds her hands out, grasping his and pulling until he comes to stand on his feet, if a bit unsteadily.

Once he seems to have his bearings she lets go and stands back, hands on her hips as she runs her eyes over him, scanning for injuries and finding none on the surface.

"So you aren't…injured? You're not hurt or anything anywhere?" She asks, now confused as to _why_ on earth he had been _screaming_ in such a manner.

"No! I'm fine."

"And…the screaming?"

"Oh yes," He puts his finger to his chin, looking up thoughtfully. "I was a bit confused, and then excited, you see. My plan is working out fantastically!"

 _His plan?_ She thinks, worried for a moment before realizing that this is boy is a little whacky, sure, but can't be harmful. Maybe to himself, but most likely not anyone else. "So are you on vacation? I know you don't live here; unless you just moved here."

"Um, yes. You could say that. Vacationing. Yeah, that's what I'm doing!" The boy, whoever he is, smiles, showing off rows of straight, blindingly white teeth.

Haruhi wonders how a single person could be possibly this luminescent.

She runs a hand through her hair, "Are you gonna be okay or do you need me to show you back to your hotel?"

The boy's face splits with his excitement, immediately taking Haruhi's hand in both of his and crouching to look her in her eyes. "Oh yes! Yes please, would you show me around? A local showing me, a vacationer, around the island! Oh how wonderful! Oh how fantastic! Oh –"

"Wait, wait I didn't…." Haruhi tries to correct him, tell him _No,_ she only offered to take him back to his hotel, but he turns to her and his face is so crestfallen that her heart pangs in her chest and she sighs.

"Okay. I'll show you around. I just have to get my things." She turns to go back to her spot and the boy follows, towel bunched comically at his waist. Haruhi picks up her schoolbooks and notes and puts them in her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before turning back her…companion. She looks him over again and sighs.

"We should probably go to your hotel to get you some clothes first. You don't wanna walk around the island in just a towel."

He immediately panics, throwing his arms around and waving in front of him. "I don't have any clothes."

She looks at him with her brows drawn together, eyes squinting. "You. Don't. Have. Clothes?"

"No, ah, they, they um."

"Did they got lost in baggage claim or something?" She asks, already minutely regretting her decision to show him around.

"Yes! That is exactly what happened. You're very clever, aren't you…what did you say your name was, my lady?"

The formality throws her off a bit but she answers honestly – after all what does it matter, it's unlikely she'll see him again after the day is over. "Haruhi."

"And I am Tamaki." He takes her hand and bows low, bringing the back of her hand to his lips before she snatches it quickly away, only a tad put off.

Okay, maybe more than a tad.

"So, uh." Haruhi struggles to find the words for what she wants to say; she sighs and throws her head back. "I guess we can go back to my house then – I'm sure my dad has _something_ you can wear."

"Well then, lead the way, my dear Haruhi!" Tamaki holds his arm out as if meaning to escort her, Haruhi blushes as she bats it away and tells him, "Yeah yeah, follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean you can't find him?"

The palace attendant puts his hands up in an attempt to pacify the young man who is currently _very, very close to him._ "Now, Kyoya sir, I'm sure he's around somewhere, you know how the young prince is!"

Kyoya rubs his temples and groans, waving the attendant away with anger apparent in his eyes and the twitch of his fingers. "Of _course_ I know how he is, that's the _problem._ "

The attendant remains, eyes wide, waiting for a vocal order of some sort. Kyoya turns to him with eyes narrowed.

"I believe you've been excused. Keep searching."

"Yes, sir." The attendant leaves the room, and as his figure becomes blurrier, Kyoya's vision is suddenly filled with red hair and golden eyes.

"I can't believe you lost him, Kyoya!"

"Yeah, that's so unlike you!"

Kyoya brings both hands to his temples again, rubbing in small circles. "Listen, you twin heathens, if the two of you have anything to do with this I swear on all that I hold dear that I –"

"Yeah, yeah, we know, skin us and feed us to sharks, you've told us before, right, Kaoru?"

The twin on Kyoya's right nods. "Yeah, Kyoya! And besides, we had nothing to do with this, honest, right Hikaru?"

The other twin nods, but Kyoya sees the smirk on his face and his eyes narrow once more.

"I don't believe that for a moment. You should go help search for our dear young prince."

The twins can tell by the look in his eyes that "should" really means "get your asses out of this room before I make good on my promise" and hurriedly flee the room.

Finally alone, Kyoya takes a seat at his desk, running through his mental list of places the missing prince could be. It's a long list.


	4. Chapter 4

"Wow, do you all live so close to the beach?" Tamaki asks, his eyes constantly moving from one sight to another, and Haruhi gives him a quizzical look.

"Well, this island is rather small, so yes." She leads him to her home, remembering that her father is still at work which makes this task all the easier. She brings Tamaki into the kitchen and instructs him to wait there so she can be sure he won't be crouching over her shoulder as she raids her father's closet for something a bit more. Masculine.

Haruhi's father is well-known around the island for cross-dressing, and it's been so long that no one around town really cares anymore – especially her – but she'd rather not have to explain the multitude of skirts and dresses and how _No,_ they aren't her mother's.

She rummages through until she finds an old pair of swim trunks that look like they should fit – Tamaki's about her father's height and they have a similar build, long and lean. She grabs a tshirt as well and brings them out to the kitchen.

Where she finds Tamaki rifling through her silverware drawer.

"What – what are you doing?"

Tamaki pulls his hands out of the drawer like he's been burned, mouth opening and closing in such rapid motion it reminds Haruhi of a fish. "Oh, you see I um, we don't have things like this where I'm from, so I was just um, you know,"

"You know what, never mind. Here's some clothes. You can change in the bathroom." Haruhi gestures to the doorway just across from them as she hands him the clothes in her hands. He waddles over – Haruhi vaguely realizes he's been walking like that the whole time and cringes – and shuts the door.

It's been about ten minutes when Haruhi calls out, "Are you okay in there, Tamaki?"

There's a thud followed by, "Oh yes, yes, one moment, I'll be right there!"

When he emerges, he doesn't look bad despite the fact that he's managed to put the trunks on backwards. Haruhi points this out to him, gently, and he nods and says, "Ah of course, I was simply testing you, my dear!" before returning to the bathroom to adjust.

The clothes settled, the two of them set out to see the town.

Tamaki seems positively enthralled by absolutely everything, his exuberance brightening up everything around him. He runs ahead of Haruhi, asking question after question of both his companion and occasionally the owners of the stores they stop in.

Haruhi does her best to avoid the more skeezy tourist stops, wants to show Tamaki the _real_ joys of the island, not just the places that they talk about in all the fancy mainland magazines.

"Haruhi?" Tamaki asks as they're standing in a small shop across the street from the beach, the sound of waves and seagulls and screaming children in the background.

"Yes, Tamaki?"

"Do you like living here?"

Haruhi's struck silent by the intimacy of the question – rather heavy to be asking someone you've only just met. "Yes," she replies, drawing the word out slowly, "why do you ask?"

Tamaki starts, as if he wasn't actually expecting her to answer, throwing his hands up and saying, "Oh no, no, no reason at all, I'm just – " He sighs and turns his head to look out at the ocean, only a few meters away, the scent of it heavy in the air.

"I've just heard a lot of things." He says with a sort of weight too heavy for someone so young. "A lot of things I'm not sure are true. It makes you think about why people tell lies."

He shrugs his shoulders and Haruhi is left speechless, unsure of how to reply. She opens her mouth, because despite her inability to respond she feels as though she's supposed to.

Tamaki turns to her, eyes looking weary, giving him the appearance of being much older than he actually is. "What is it, Haruhi?"

She flounders for a few moments before taking a deep breath and saying, "I'm not really sure." She finds herself unable to look him in the eyes.

Tamaki hums, very much unlike the excited screaming boy she'd found earlier in the afternoon.

Haruhi tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and takes his wrist in her hands, pulling him away from the shop. "Come on. Let's go somewhere else." Suddenly, everything had felt entirely too small, too suffocating, Haruhi feeling like she couldn't breathe.

She takes him back to the beach, where he suddenly seems both tense and incredibly at ease. They walk together, side by side, shoes dangling from their fingertips while waves wash over their feet.

"I want to retract my answer to your question, Tamaki. Or rather…I'd like to discuss it."

Haruhi had been feeling uneasy not really about her answer but instead his question, and why his beautiful face had scrunched in uncertainty as he'd asked it. She suddenly remembers the what he'd said.

 _"_ _It makes you wonder why people tell lies."_

"You asked me if I liked living here. And I said yes, that I do." He's watching her, attention razor-sharp as if every word leaving her mouth holds the secret keys to all his questions – as though she herself were the answer. "However, that's not entirely true. Not that it's untrue…it's. It's complicated, is what it is, Tamaki."

He nods fervently, because he too knows what it's like when things are _complicated_. Probably moreso than Haruhi ever could, but he decides not to mention that.

"I love the island. It's my home, after all. I just…most people who are born here live their _entire lives_ here, and they stay here and they die here and sometimes I just – I just want to be free, Tamaki. I want to go to the mainland and I want to make something of myself. I want to study law, like my mother did. She was going to open a practice here on the island, before…"

She trails off, suddenly very aware of how much she is telling this boy, this luminous stranger she's only met a few hours before. Haruhi has never been one for over sharing – however, before now it hadn't been necessary.

Before now, she'd never really spoken at length with any of the tourists who came to the island – never more than a few words, generally the same, giving directions to this place or that.

But somehow this boy had managed to wheedle his way into her precious study time – had managed to convince her to give him a tour and here she was, wading through the sea water, walking next to someone she barely knew and telling him some of her deeper thoughts.

There was something different about him – something she found in his somewhat strange mannerisms, his inability to walk properly until he'd watched her do it, his sheer brightness.

Haruhi wasn't sure what is was exactly.

But she finds herself determined to discover it.


	5. Chapter 5

Tamaki has always felt very unsure of things.

Of his place in the world, whether anyone really liked him or if they were humoring him – listening to his father's requests – and whether he was really fit to follow in his father's footsteps. What a legacy that was.

He watches Haruhi look out over the horizon, listens to her sigh wistfully.

"I miss my mother." She says quietly, runs a hand through her hair.

Tamaki feels the air leave his lungs. "I know."

She turns to him, eyebrows raised, and he feels his cheeks flushing, and he puts his hands up to try to dissuade the situation. "I-I apologize, I don't mean I know _you_ miss your mother, more so that I know how you feel." He lets out deep breath before he continues. "I miss mine as well."

"Is she very far away?"

Tamaki nods, hair brushing over his eyes in the breeze. He closes them and reaches out towards the water. "Oceans and oceans away."

Haruhi watches him for a moment before turning her gaze back to the sea, where the sun is slowly beginning to set. She finds herself amazed by how much time has passed, how much time she's spent in this strange boy's company.

"I have to return." Tamaki says suddenly, eyes open, gazing sadly at the water before him.

"To the hotel?" Haruhi asks.

He nods before suddenly beginning to flail about, letting out garbled sounds Haruhi thinks are supposed to be words.

"What's wrong?" She asks, brown eyes wide with concern.

"Your clothes – your father's clothes, I mean. What should I do with them?"

Haruhi's brow furrows. "You'll wear them back to the hotel, of course?" She considers for a moment. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Tamaki asks, tries to keep his voice from sounding too hopeful.

"Tomorrow afternoon, you can meet me in the same place I found you earlier. You can return them to me then, alright? You'll still be around, right? You aren't leaving tonight, or tomorrow morning?"

"No!" Tamaki cries, "I'll be near – I'll be here for a few weeks, I believe. I'll have to ask my – my father." Tamaki falters slightly as he brings his father up, but if Haruhi notices, she says nothing. "Alright, I shall see you tomorrow then."

Haruhi nods, a small smile on her face. She turns away, waving over her shoulder as she calls, "Don't forget!"

"I could never!" Tamaki replies, hands cupped around his mouth. He watches her walk away until she is merely a dot, the chance of her seeing what he is about to do few and far between. The beach around him is surprisingly empty, tourists having left the shores for dinner and to soothe their burned skin.

He makes his way into the sea water, one step after the other, deeper and deeper until the water reaches over his shoulders and his feet can no longer reach the sandy bottom while his head is above water.

He carefully removes the clothes Haruhi has lent him, clutching them to his chest.

Tamaki releases a breath and allows himself to sink.

He's always hated this part.

He takes in a mouthful of brine, holds it there until his lungs feel like they're bursting – because they are, he remembers, because he doesn't really _need_ them. He feels his neck begin to swell – gills retaking their place, settling back just underneath his jaw, the skin of his neck tearing and opening to take his first 'breath'. Tamaki opens his mouth and lets out a sigh.

He doesn't need to look down to know that his legs are gone – have molded and fused and given way to his tail, long and strong and opalescent. He gives an experimental flick of his fins, feels the water give way easily and his body move forward. He clutches the borrowed garments closer to his chest and begins to swim.

Deeper and deeper he goes, the water dark save for the light leading him home – the light of bioluminescent algae that grows on the walls of his father's palace. He wonders how he's managed to escape anyone's notice so far – he's been away for hours and as the prince and heir, his safety is vital to the kingdom.

That's what Kyoya and his father always tell him. It's why he's waited this long to go to the surface world.

But then he realizes that he hasn't escaped anyone's notice. Not at all.

Behind him, now that he's _really_ paying attention, he sees the lead of his personal guard, Morinozuka, and his cousin Haninozuka, swimming just far enough behind that he notices them, only barely, but he knows that he's within their keen gaze, even in the dark.

They follow him until he reaches his own chambers within the palace, where Kyoya is waiting for him.

"Welcome home, your Highness." His eyes are blazing, a cold steel fury.

Tamaki swallows. "Thank you, Kyoya. Is there anything you need? I'm rather tired and I'd like to sleep now so if –"

"If you think you'll be getting off that lightly then I have taught you less than I thought, Tamaki. You better not have been above earlier. How many times _must_ I tell you how dangerous the humans are?"

"But Kyoya, I –" Tamaki throws his hands out, trying to emphasize a point Kyoya doesn't let him finish.

"These are your father's words, not mine, Tamaki. You're forbidden to leave the palace without accompaniment. Your safety is of utmost importance, your Highness. You have been in this palace long enough to understand your role as prince and heir, haven't you?" He pauses before continuing, "Your mother would expect better of you, Tamaki." Kyoya eyes Tamaki carefully, unsure of his prince's reaction.

Tamaki's shoulders slump and his brow furrows. "Alright Kyoya. I understand. You may leave now. I really would like to sleep."

Kyoya nods and leaves the room, throwing a narrow glance over his shoulder to see Tamaki lay himself out on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. "Goodnight, Tamaki."

"Goodnight, Kyoya."


	6. Chapter 6

Morning comes in all it brightness, warming the sea and shining brightly in Tamaki's eyes. He opens them blearily, not at all surprised to find Kyoya sitting at his desk, reviewing some papers.

Many mornings, days and nights have been spent in such a manner – Kyoya poring over papers at Tamaki's desk while Tamaki lay in his bed, listening to his friend and advisor speak, often parroting back to assure Kyoya that he was listening.

In the beginning Kyoya was against this method of lessons, but Tamaki always seemed to retain the information, so he eventually let it go, so long as the king didn't drop in.

But today it isn't the king who stops by to visit the prince.

It's the king's mother.

She glides into the room wordlessly, her eyes narrow as she glances at the boy laying in his bed. "So this is how you take your lessons." Her voice holds a tone of regal arrogance sidled with disappointment.

Tamaki sits up on the bed immediately.

The Queen – Shizue – is the most respected member of the royal family. She places the politics of the kingdom and the reputation of the royal family above all else.

Which is why Tamaki's existence irks her like nothing she's ever known. She clears her throat and tucks a nonexistent stray hair behind her ear – as if she would ever have a hair out of place – before she says, "You remember why you're here, don't you?"

Tamaki holds her gaze, eyes determined. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Good. Your king desires that you join him for tea within the hour."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Tamaki's grandmother nods and he bows at her turned back as she leaves the room before returning to his original position.

From his seat at the desk Kyoya sighs and shuts his books, rearranging the notes he'd written and the loose pages from his files. Adjusting his glasses he turns to his friend and tells him, "You'd best get ready to meet with your father. You don't want him to wait."

Tamaki remains motionless aside from nodding his head.

"I'd recommend doing so now, Tamaki."

Tamaki nods but again does not move.

"What's bothering you?" Kyoya asks, folding his hands.

"Nothing, Kyoya."

"You'd be much more excited about the chance to impress your father – and through him your grandmother – if something wasn't bothering you. You obviously do not _have_ to tell me, but I know you well enough I could, most likely, hazard a guess."

Tamaki's gaze comes to rest on his to-be advisor's face, his own eyes narrowing. "Tell me then, Kyoya."

"This is about your trip to the land yesterday. Something about it, and the fact that your father will most definitely wish to speak to you about whatever happened up there. You don't wish to tell him?"

Tamaki sits up and hums for a moment, a tuneless thoughtful sound. He folds his own hands together and looks at Kyoya directly. "I met someone yesterday."

Kyoya's eyes go wide – while he hadn't exactly expected Tamaki to not meet anyone, it's the tone of voice he uses when he says it that throws the dark haired boy. A tone that implied this someone was _important_ to Tamaki.

"Who?"

"Just a girl. Very kind. Very…different. I felt…different around her."

Kyoya's brow twitches. "That's because you _are_ different from her, Tamaki. She's a human, and you're not."

Tamaki waves his hand to dismiss Kyoya's comment, which earns him another brow twitch. "No no Kyoya, not biologically, I mean…I felt open when I was with her. Like I could be myself."

"Do you find that you cannot be yourself here, in your own world?" Kyoya knows the answer to this question. There is no member of the royal court who feels truly at ease, truly capable of being themselves all the time.

Tamaki knows that he knows this, and simply hums again. He removes himself from the bed and stretches his arms. "I suppose I should be going. Can't keep my father – excuse me, my _King_ , as Grandmother so kindly put it – can't keep my King waiting."

Kyoya nods and rises from his own seat, following Tamaki from the room and through the halls until they reached the King's chambers. Tamaki places a hand on the door, fist curled as though to knock, and looks at Kyoya.

"I'll come find you once I'm finished here."

Kyoya looks at him, tries to keep the concern from marring his features. Instead he smiles and wishes Tamaki good luck before bowing – a gesture Tamaki rolls his eyes at before knocking fruitfully on the door. When he turns his head, just a glance over his shoulder, Kyoya is gone and his father's voice is commanding that he enter.

The king's room is exquisitely lavish. Every inch decorated in decadence, from the paintings on the walls to the masterfully carved furniture.

Tamaki feels incredibly out of place every time he comes to this room. It reminds him of what he is not – a true member of this family, the forced heir, brought only because of his mother's failing health and his grandmother's insistence.

"Sit, son."

Yuzuru, the king, is sitting at his desk, looking over an array of maps. His voice is deep and rich, with a sense of authority seemingly embedded into his vocal chords. The type of voice one has a hard time disobeying.

Unless one is the king's son.

"Good morning, your Majesty."

Tamaki's father lets out a breath and looks his son in the eye. "We've spoken about this. Your grandmother may insist on the formalities but you are welcome to call me what I am – your father."

Tamaki nods, expression neutral as he looks around the room and replies, "True, but you are also my king."

"Despite all other assurances, I am first and foremost your father." His gaze lingers on his son's face – he looks so much like his mother. It's incredibly painful for Yuzuru to bear, at times.

"Which is why I am so worried about you. Your little trip yesterday worried many people, me and your little fan club included."

Tamaki huffed, "It's not a fan club, father, I've told you that. As for…my trip…maybe if I wasn't so kept in the dark I wouldn't have had to go myself."

Yuzuru rubs his eyes with the back of his hands. "You're not as 'in the dark' as you think you are, Tamaki. There are things we're only temporarily keeping from you. It's for your own good."

"I don't know how much good not knowing the dark secrets of the human world will do me, but if you insist. For now, anyway. I feel like there are so, _so_ many things no one will tell me. They all act as though knowing the answers to my questions will change me forever or something ridiculous like that. I may not be an adult but I'm most assuredly not a scared little child."

Yuzuru finds himself unable to contain his laughter at the look of haughty determination in his son's face. "What would you like me to tell you, Tamaki? Aside from about the humans."

The prince makes an indignant little sound in the back of his throat and hums for a moment, thinking.

"How did you meet my mother? I want the real story. Not the one she told me, because I know it wasn't the truth. At least not all of it."

Yuzuru laughs again, full bodied this time. "I suppose I can do that for you."


End file.
